“Yes, at your service,” replied the young man, as he loosened the reins.
“How strange it will be for you to meet Mynheer Otto again after all these years!”
Gerard turned quickly from his prancing steed. “Are you going to call Otto ‘Mynheer’?” he asked.
She blushed with annoyance, in an overflow of innocent confusion.
“Oh, very well,” he went on. “Only, of course, you will have to call me Mynheer Gerard.”
He raced off, laughing. “I know you,” she stammered; but the words were lost in the dog-cart’s departing rattle. She appealed to her father in dismay. “Why, father,” she cried, “I have known Gerard all my life!”
Together they stood watching the dust-enfolded vehicle disappear into the far blue sunshine. Its occupant was young, light-hearted, and handsome. Evidently a cavalry officer: you could see that by the way in which his tweeds and he conjoined without combining.